


Ink

by RunWonderlandRun



Series: Blood of Silver [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Argent Family History, Gen, Mentions of Murder, Peter is creepy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 03:14:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunWonderlandRun/pseuds/RunWonderlandRun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles stopped breathing. Argent; the killer was an Argent. He finished reading the article. Out of twenty people, only four survived; Frederic and Darla Hale, husband and wife. Their second oldest son, Joshua Hale, and a young girl they had taken in, called Irene smith. Stiles felt sick. He couldn’t believe that out of twenty, only four people managed to survive. He wondered who was the Alpha at the time, and how a hunter managed to get so close to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ink

                A week after the Argent’s left for France, Stiles went to the library to do research. His father seemed both relieved and suspicious; probably because he hadn’t left his room in days. Before leaving, Stiles grabbed a blank journal, a few pens and his laptop. When Stiles reached the library, he made sure to find a secluded table, surrounded by bookshelves. Once he set up his laptop, Stiles went out to find what he needed. He went to the very back of the building, where the old newspapers were archived.

                Back when Scott was bitten, Stiles researched everything possible. A couple of hours after meeting Derek, Stiles looked into his family. He looked into the Hale fire and found something weird. Stiles discovered that thirty years before the fire, a Robert Hale was murdered; half his body was found. A different article mentioned another Hale tragedy, but Stiles didn’t get a chance to read it.

                “Come on, come on…”

                Stiles started out twenty years after Robert’s death but he found nothing. He moved five years back but still, nothing. Stiles spent thirty minutes looking, but he couldn’t find anything. It was another twenty minutes before Stiles found the article.

                “Oh thank God.”

                Stiles licked his lips and started to read. Sixteen people dead; poisoned and then cut in half by some kind of medieval sword. The killer was attacked by the Hale’s dog, her throat torn out. Her name—

                “Regina William, whose true last name was Argent—“

                Stiles stopped breathing. Argent; the killer was an Argent. He finished reading the article. Out of twenty people, only four survived; Frederic and Darla Hale, husband and wife. Their second oldest son, Joshua Hale, and a young girl they had taken in, called Irene smith. Stiles felt sick. He couldn’t believe that out of twenty, only four people managed to survive. He wondered who was the Alpha at the time, and how a hunter managed to get so close to them.

                Heart pounding, Stiles went back to the article about Robert. It didn’t say much. It just mentioned that half of Robert’s body was found by the river bank. There was no funeral, and nobody knew what happened. Robert was survived by his grandparents, Frederic and Darla. He was survived by his parents, Joshua and Irene Hale. He was also survived by his siblings, Talia, Ana, and Peter Hale.

                “Holy,” Stiles took a deep breath, “oh God,” he whispered to himself, “oh God.”

                Robert was killed by a hunter. He’d been killed by an Argent, Stiles was sure of that.

                “We live by the code,” Stiles mocked, “that whole family needs some serious therapy.”

                A stone landed in his stomach. Stiles hadn’t forgotten what Chris told him. He hadn’t forgotten that he himself was related to that family. Ever since he found out, Stiles kept having nightmares. He kept seeing Gerard above him with a sword, or Kate laughing with flames all around her. Once, he dreamt that Allison and him killed Scott. He hadn’t been able to fall back asleep after that.

                Stiles studied each article carefully. He made copies of each one and put them on his table.

                “Why, hello Stiles. Anything I can help you with?”

                “No thank—“Stiles looked up at the librarian, Ms. Wakefield, “actually, yes. You’ve lived here forever, right?” Ms. Wakefield nodded, “Do you,um,” he shrugged, “do you remember a Robert Hale?”

                Ms. Wakefield blinked, “Well…I don’t really remember anything about him,” she looked around, “the Hale’s always kept to themselves. They hardly ever came into town, unless it was to buy some something,” she cocked her head, “I do remember seeing Robert around with a boy though.”

                Stiles sat up, “A boy? You mean like,” he waved his hands, “a friend or…?”

                “I never saw anything,” Ms. Wakefield smiled, “but there was definitely something about them.”

                “Do you know his name?” Stiles leaned forward, “does he still live around here?”

                Ms. Wakefield sat down and folded her hands, “I think his name was…William? I’m not sure.”

                _William_ , Stiles thought, _Again with William._

                “Anyways, both him and Robert ran off.”

                “Seriously?” he stared at the articles in front him. Ms. Wakefield chuckled.

                “Oh, you won’t find that in the newspaper. Nobody really talked about it, but they did run off together. I don’t know what happened to William. I never saw him again,” she frowned at Stiles, “why do you ask?”

                Stiles grinned, “You know me, Ms. Wakefield.”

                “I do,” she said, “does your father know?”

                “Maybe?” he flashed her a smile. Ms. Wakefield looked at the ceiling.

                “Lord,” she stood up and waved a hand at him, “Just put everything else back when you’re done.”

                “But of course!”

                For the next hour, Stiles studied the articles. He wrote down some observations before going back to look at some local history records. Stiles found out that Frederic and Darla Hale were heavily involved in the community before Regina. Years after the death of their family members, they had two more children; twins called Louis and Abigail. When Robert was still alive, the Hale family had fourteen people. Not long after Robert’s murder, Louis and Abigail left, leaving only eight members. From then, Stiles couldn’t find anything else until the fire.

                “Ok,”Stiles grabbed his head and looked at what he found, “It started with Regina,” Stiles nodded to himself, “but she couldn’t kill them all. Robert ran away with a boy and later turned up dead,” Stiles frowned, “That boy had to be an Argent—he had to be; but why only Robert? Why not the whole family?”

                Groaning, Stiles let his head fall with a thump on the table. He was missing a piece of the puzzle. Why was Robert the only one killed? Stiles closed his eyes and thought. The only thing that would make sense is if the Argents tried to get information from Robert.

                “I didn’t know you were into history.”

                Stiles yelped and fell out of his chair. Peter stared down at him. He looked at the papers on the table. Stiles felt his face go red.

                “Mmm,” Peter picked up his journal and flipped through it, “Ah, memories,” he smiled down at Stiles, “you know, we didn’t even have a funeral. My father didn’t want one.”

                “What are you doing here?” Stiles stood up, dusted off his pants and sat back down. Peter smirked, and sat across from Stiles.

                “Research,” the older man leaned back in his chair, “you could ask, you know,” Peter tapped his fingers against the table, “if you want.”

                Stiles rolled his eyes and sat back down. He stared at Peter. He knew the werewolf couldn’t be trusted—not really. Then again, the library only had so much information.

                “What happened to Robert?”

                Peter closed his eyes and sighed. His lips curled into smile.

                “Robert was the oldest,” Peter said, “he made a friend outside the pack, much to my father’s displeasure,” Peter opened his eyes, “my father was the Alpha at the time. My grandmother passed the title to him.”

                Stiles wrote that down, “So…was Robert next in line to be Alpha? I mean, he was the oldest.”

                Peter laughed, “No. No, it was Talia, Derek’s mother, who was Alpha heir. She was born for it really.”

                “Who was his friend?”

                “His name was William,” Peter sobered up, “at least, that’s what he told my brother. Robert fell in love with him. My parents and Talia tried to stop their meetings,” Stiles leaned forward, mouth open, “but Robert continued going with him. A few months later, Talia caught Robert kissing William. Oh my father was livid,” Peter laughed, “he almost tore my brother limb from limb.”

                Stiles gulped, “What happened?”

                “What happened,” Peter’s eyes flashed momentarily, “is that as soon as Robert healed, he ran off with William. After he was buried, Talia found out that an Argent was killed by a werewolf.”

                “The boy your brother ran off.”

                Peter grinned, “Clever. Yes, he was an Argent. His name was Beau. He was Gerard’s youngest brother.”

                A lump formed in Stiles throat. He swallowed. Of course it was Gerard’s brother; of course.

                “They only killed Robert though,” Stiles tapped his foot against the chair, “did they attack anybody else?”

                “No,” Peter looked bored, “my guess is that they were trying to get information on the pack. When my brother refused to talk, they killed him,” he turned towards the window. Stiles slumped down on his seat. His mind whirred. He wondered what would have happened if Robert talked. The Hales might have been wiped out.

                “You even have Regina here,” Peter commented. Stiles frowned.

                “What do you know about her?”

                “Not much,” Peter shrugged, “she wormed her way into the family by becoming friends with some of the werewolves my grandfather bit—including my mother. I believe she ended up dating one; his name was Adam.”

                Stiles scoffed. What was it about Argents seducing Hales?

                “Two years,” Peter ran a finger over the article, “two years she was with the pack when she saved my father’s life. That’s when my grandfather told her about werewolves,” Peter shook his head, “six months later, sixteen members were dead. My grandmother tore her to bits.”

                “Your mom was a bitten werewolf?”

                “The last one…well,” Peter rolled his eyes, “the last one before now. After Regina, my family wasn’t too comfortable in bringing in new blood.”

                Stiles snorted, “Can’t say I—“

                Before Stiles could blink, Peter was on him. Stiles opened his mouth but Peter slid one clawed hand around his throat. He went still. Peter’s body molded to his.

                “Why the sudden interest in my family’s history?”

                “Ah,” Stiles took a breath, “Just…stumbled upon an article after Scott got bitten and…I just remembered and—“

                “You’re lying,” Peter bent his head forward, so that his mouth was by Stiles ear, “I’ll ask you again,” Stiles shivered, “why are you interested?”

                Stiles couldn’t tell Peter the truth. He couldn’t tell the werewolf what Chris told him. The hand around his neck tightened a little. Stiles gasped. Fear pooled in his chest.

                “You know what I think?” Peter’s breath felt hot, “I think you were curious about your OWN family.”

                “My,” Stiles felt cold. His legs started to shake, “I don’t know what—“

                “I know, Stiles,” Peter’s cheek touched his, “I know you’re Gerard’s son; I know you’re an Argent,” the older man sniffed his neck, “you reek of them.”

                Anger raced through Stiles, “I’m not an Argent,” he bit out. Peter chuckled.

                “No you’re not,” He moved away but his hand remained around Stiles throat, “I find it funny, really; you helping out werewolves when your father probably killed hundreds of them.”

                “John Stilinski is my father,” Stiles whispered, “not Gerard.”

                Peter let go of his neck. Startled, Stiles fell on his ass.

                “I still have my family’s records,” the werewolf said, his eyes boring into Stiles, “which includes information on certain families.”

                Stiles blinked.

                “Don’t you want to know more?” Peter grinned and turned around, “I’ll see you later.”

                He watched Peter walk out of the library. When he was sure the werewolf was gone, Stiles closed his eyes and sagged down on the floor. He touched his neck and hissed. His heart felt as if it would burst out, and his head felt as if it would float away. After a few minutes, Stiles stood up. He looked outside. The sky was turning dark. Stiles put his things away in a daze and climbed into his jeep and let his head fall onto the steering wheel.

                Peter knew his parentage. Stiles wondered if the older werewolf told Derek about it.

                “Shit,” Stiles blew out a breath, “Stupid werewolves,” he started the car and got on the road. On the way home, Stiles thought about what he learned. He thought about what Peter told him. He thought about the card with Chris’s phone number that was sitting in his drawer at home.

                Stiles wondered how much Allison knew about her family. She probably knew that Stiles was related to her, but did she know about Regina? Did she know about Beau? Groaning, Stiles got his stuff out and headed inside. He dropped his bag in the floor of his room and lied down on his bed.  Stiles replayed what Peter told him.

                _Don’t you want to know more?_

He bit his lip and touched his neck. Stiles wouldn’t be surprised if there was a bruise there in the morning. He grunted. Stiles didn’t trust Peter. However, the older werewolf did have information that Stiles desperately needed.

                “Oh boy,” Stiles grabbed his phone and called Scott. His friend answered on the third ring.

                “Hey.”

                “Scott,” Stiles sat up, “I’m going to visit Peter tomorrow—If I don’t call you by ten at night, please come get me.”

                Silence.

                “Scott?”

                “Are you crazy?” Scott hissed, “why Stiles? Why do you want to talk to Peter?”

                “You know how Kate Argent killed Derek’s family?”

                “…yea?” Scott sounded confused.

                “Did you know that more than sixty years ago, a woman named Regina Argent killed sixteen Hale’s?”

                Scott didn’t answer.

                “And,” Stiles swallowed, “and that thirty something years ago, Robert Hale was seduced and then kidnapped by Argent’s and later cut in half?”

                Scott made a noise, “Is…is this about what Mr. Argent told you? About…you know…Gerard?”

                “NO!” Stiles yelled.

                Telling his best friend that he was Gerard’s son—Allison’s uncle hadn’t been easy. Scott had been horrified. He’d hugged Stiles and asked if there was anything he needed. Stiles gripped Scott’s back and cried into his friend’s shoulder. Scott spent the night sleeping next to Stiles.

                 He paused, “Yea…I just…I want to find out as much as I can about them. I want to know just how far gone they are.”

                “But…but Peter?” Scott whined, “Does it have to be Peter?”

                “Look, I’m not exactly thrilled in having to ask for his help, but I don’t have a choice, Scott. He knows things; hell he’s lived through it.”

                “Ok, ok,” Scott groaned, “what time are you going to go?”

                Stiles thought about it, “Um…tomorrow at around five?”

                “Five, got it,” Scott answered, “Stiles…are you ok?”

_Not really,_ Stiles thought, “Of course, Scott,” he lied, “I’m fine.”

                “Ok,” Scott didn’t sound too convinced but he didn’t say anything else, “Please don’t do anything stupid, ok Stiles?”

                “Alright, alright,” Stiles laughed, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

                Stiles hung up and threw the phone somewhere to his right. He shut his eyes. His throat felt sore. Tomorrow, he would go to Peter and get answers. When Chris came back from France, Stiles would go see him and get more answers. Stiles was going to find out what code, if any, the Argents really followed. 

**Author's Note:**

> And so, Stiles also learns more about the Argent History. And Peter is creepy.


End file.
